world by his philosophical discoveries! There
is much more probability that he will live in some obscure
printing-office, and die, "unknown, unhonoured, and unsung." Who
wonders that a young lady, Miss Read, who was standing in the door of
her father's residence as Benjamin passed, thought he made a very
awkward and ridiculous appearance? She little thought she was taking a
bird's-eye view of her future husband, as the youth with the rolls of
bread under his arm proved to be. But just then he cared more for
bread than he did for her; some years after, the case was reversed,
and he cared more for her than he did for bread.

Turning down Chestnut Street he continued to walk until he came round
to the wharf where he landed. Being thirsty, he went to the boat for
water, where he found the woman and child who came down the river with
them on the previous night, waiting to go further.

"Are you hungry?" he inquired of the child, who looked wistfully at
his bread.

"We are both very hungry," answered the woman, speaking for herself
and child.

"I have satisfied my hunger," said Benjamin, "and you may have the
rest of my bread if you would like it," at the same time passing both
rolls to her.

"You are very kind indeed," responded the woman. "I thank you much for
it;"--all of which was as good pay for the bread as Benjamin wanted.
This was another instance of the generosity for which he was
distinguished throughout his whole life. An American statesman said of
him, in a eulogy delivered in Boston: "No form of personal suffering
or social evil escaped his attention, or appealed in vain for such
relief or remedy as his prudence could suggest, or his purse supply.
From that day of his early youth, when, a wanderer from his home and
friends in a strange place, he was seen sharing his rolls with a poor
woman and child, to the last act of his public life, when he signed
that well known memorial to Congress, a spirit of earnest and
practical benevolence runs like a golden thread along his whole
career."

He then walked up the street again, and found well-dressed people
going to church. Joining in the current, notwithstanding his
appearance, he went with them into the large Quaker meeting-house that
stood near the market. He took his seat, and waited for the services
to begin, either not knowing what Quakers did at meeting, or else
being ignorant that he was among this sect. As nothing was said, and
he was weary and exhausted